


DVD Extras

by Kellyscams



Series: Of Broken Dreams and Mended Hearts [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:09:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyscams/pseuds/Kellyscams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place for little extras where the complexities of Society and the lives and marriage of Steve and Bucky can be further explored. Some of this can be both canonical and non canonical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I've reached a sort of turning point in the plot, I feel the need to give a sort of timeline as to how Bucky's gotten to where he is now and how/why the interaction with Alexander went the way it did.

Four months ago Bucky's life had been as it always was. He was pretty carefree, very hard on himself ((a lot of his self-worth and insecurities stemmed from his arm)), but he enjoyed a privileged life, fame and fortune. Cameras loved him, reporters loved him, the public--Society and under--loved him. Society's Sweetheart, even two years later. A smile sweet as sugar and a laugh to go with it, he could charm the sun out on the grayest of days. He made friends with anyone and everyone, shared a dance with that wallflower just make her laugh, had a drink with the shy guy so he wouldn't feel alone, stayed out till the sun came up just to share the colors with his friends. Life was his for the taking. And he took. 

Then life took more from him. His arm was not enough payment for the sins of his past it would seem.

His father had been looking paler by the day, but George Barnes, while always a good, kind man, did expect to maintain Societal Hierarchy in his House. A proper headship to his family, he didn't want them to worry, so when questions about work arose, they were met with swifts 'it's nothing' and 'it'll blow over'. Only it _didn't_ blow over. It couldn't. He'd signed off on the new diesel engines that Hammer Tech was designing, assured by Lord Hammer, Justin, his lifelong friend, that they'd be ready. The Military Bureau put a near fortune into the investment and when the production went underway, it blew up, literally, in their faces. Someone needed to pay, as always in cases like these. George Barnes was the one who signed off first. It was _his_ signature on all the documents that okayed the production, _his_ signature that assured the Military that everything would run smoothly. The matter was quickly brought to Court.

George had not wanted to involve his family, but it was unavoidable. Their accounts had been frozen, they'd been cut off, left only to survive on credit, which would run out quickly if nothing was done. Here was Bucky's father, a man so strong, who looked out for him, his mother, his sister, who stood by his side when he lost his arm, made adjustments for him because of the loss, who, as headship, could have easily dismissed him, abandoned him in an orphanage or the streets and instead found a way to help make him strong, encouraged him to keep going, helped him find a new place among Society--usually very cruel and unkind to those with illness or disabilities--and Bucky had to watch him suffer at the hands of those he had always been so loyal to. There was nothing George could do to help himself or his family, and no one, not one person stepped up to speak on his behalf, which could have saved them all, not even Justin Hammer, Bucky's father's oldest friend. They were doomed to bankruptcy, disgrace, the streets. 

Bucky's father had told him, "I wanted to protect my family, always, son. I'm so sorry I did this to you."  
"It's not your fault, Father." Bucky tried to comfort, limbs shaking, sharing encouraging words to pass along to the man who'd held him when he was but a child. "Maybe there's still hope. Something we can do."  
"You're a good man, Bucky. I hope you know I've always been proud of you. You're a hero."

That never failed to hurt inside. Hero. Never a hero. They insisted though. All the time. Bucky the hero. If only the knew.

"Thank you, Father."

It would be the last thing they ever said to each other. Bucky's father fell from the stairs that night, his heart seizing and then stopping. The doctors said it was fast, but Bucky often wondered if it said anything to him as he stopped working. Was it in pain? Did it plead for help? Or did his father welcome it? 

He thought it was his mother who screamed when she heard the news. It wasn't. It was his sister. The head of their family, his father, gone, lost to the world, from his life, forever. Bucky shook that night, as he held Rebecca in his arms. She cried tons. Endless tears. He didn't. Held it back, held it in. He needed to be strong for her. Be the hero she took him for. 

"It's going to be okay, Rebecca." He murmured.  
"How?" she wept. "What're we gonna do, Bucky?"

 _Yes? What?_ His heart wept. _Father's gone_  
 _I know. There must be something..._

There was. There was something and his mother, such a clever woman, figured it out. 

His mother is not unkind. Never has been. She's warm. Spares hugs when they're needed and bedtime stories to keep monsters from under the bed. But she knows Society tradition. Lived it. Has had it ingrained in her life like the blood in her veins. No time wasted. With her headship, her husband and headship of over twenty years suddenly gone, her family facing bankruptcy, she needed to act swiftly. Ideas had. Talks held. Deals struck.

"I've sent out proposals." She said. Nonchalance. Air of business. 

They were in the private room of the funeral parlor. Society privilege. At least George Barnes' body didn't need to be laid out on their dining room table for viewing like those below Society. The room was set up to be nice and friendly. It lied to them though. False. Just pretending. 

"You what?" Bucky's throat felt three sizes too small. Tight. It hurt.  
"Proposals. For your marriage."

Everything spun around Bucky. The lying room, the world outside, ugly, rainy day--tears for his loss, maybe? The ground was soft under his feet, unsteady. He put his hand on the wall. It laughed at him for trying. 

"Why? Now? But..." This couldn't be. Father hadn't even been buried yet. They couldn't plan a wedding. He hadn't even courted anyone. No one courted him. Proposals? "Mother... I don't understand..."  
"I've made a deal with the Courts and the Military Bureau. Everything will stay quiet if we pay the debt back. We'll keep our status, everything will be fine."  
"But... how..."  
"A dowry. Daily stipends."

Dowry... Stipends...

Which meant...

"Mother... you mean..." Bucky felt his insides draining. Face pale. Sweat clinging to white skin. Ears ringing. Nausea rolled over him. "You're going to make me marry up?"  
"Yes, Bucky." She said. Matter-of-fact. Just the way it was. Winifred wiped her hand across his brow. "It's the only option left. I've sent twenty proposals out."  
"Mother..." His voice cracked. "Please... no..."  
"Yes, James." For a moment, her eyes filled with tears. She kissed his cheek and adjusted his collar. "I love you. But this is something that needs to be done. If you're going to be sick, do it now. We have a funeral to attend."

Get sick he did. Right after she walked out Bucky ran to the nearest toilet and lost his breakfast. Bucky had tried to be strong. The whole time. For the quick trial. For his father. For his sister. Bucky wanted to be strong. He was losing everything. His father was dead. And now he was being sold off, married off to a higher family, off to someone who be his headship. Bucky heaved into the toilet again and sobbed.

***

Bucky woke with a headache. Bad. Splitting. 

_Why did you do that?_ His head asked.  
 _I don't remember what happened. Where am I?_

The room was unfamiliar. Big, gaudy. Smelled like booze and cigarettes. A hotel room. There was a lamp knocked over and a stool overturned. Bucky was in the king-sized bed alone. A breakfast tray with food on it was at the foot of the bed. Bucky's stomach hurt almost as bad as his head. His mouth felt full of sand. 

"Good morning, doll."

Bucky spun around, making his head hurt even more. He groaned. Grabbed hold of it. Whoever was with him chuckled.

"First time?"

His eyes were swollen, but he was sure who he was looking at. Brock Rumlow. Bucky felt even worse. What was he doing in a hotel room with Brock Rumlow? 

"What?" He asked. "What'm I doing here?"  
Brock chuckled. "Yeah. Last night was your first time with Molly, huh? Don't worry. The hangover will pass." He walked over to the tray. Picked up a glass of water. Handed it to Bucky. "Drink up. It'll help."

Bucky held the glass. It smiled at him. Felt nice. He drank. Quickly. Quick enough that some of the water dribbled out of his mouth and down his throat. Onto his chest. Bare. Bucky was topless and he just noticed. Sleep was clearing faster now. He could remember being tangled with Brock. Mouths crushed, tongues swirling, bodies pressed together, breaths panting. Bucky trembled. 

"I have to go." He said.  
"Why're you rushing?" Brock asked, sitting next to him and wrapping his arm around Bucky's waist. He held tight, squeezing his fingers hard enough that there'd be bruises the following day. Caging. "Stay a while. I'll take care of you, baby doll."

Bucky started to cry. Not because of Brock. A reputation followed the man, yes, but he wasn't worried that he'd take advantage of him, not like that. There were tears for everything. Father, buried just hours ago. Tears for sneaking away, to an underground, shady club to drown his sorrows in liquor, and apparently drugs--only that once, never again. Sobs for the life he was about to lose. Proposals. Twenty. Sent out. Brock kissed him. Hard, rough. It made Bucky moan. Lit his body with fire on the inside. Dried up all the tears. Pushed Bucky's sorrows away. Pains and aches. And just for a little while, Bucky could forget. 

***

"All the answers are back in, James." 

Her voice was much more sympathetic then when she announced that she'd sent the proposals a month ago. They were eating supper. Everyone still at their normal seats. One empty. Seat empty. Place setting empty. Empty. 

"Okay." Bucky whispered.  
"Do you want to know who answered in your favor, honey?"

Bucky pushed carrots around his plate with his fork. He shrugged. His mother gave him a list of several names. Among them were House Dugan, House Danvers, House Rogers, House Foster, and House Rumlow.

"Not Lord Rumlow!" Bucky exclaimed. "Anyone but him."

He didn't even know a proposal was sent to him. The thought of Brock being his headship made Bucky's stomach do awful things. Brock never said anything about it either. Not that he would. 

"Do you know him?" His mother asked.  
"I... no." He shook his head. "Just of him."  
"He's a real jerk." Rebecca grumbled. "Supposed to be really nasty."

Bucky kept his eyes on his meal. No one knew of his time spent with Brock. Of those times sneaking out and meeting him, of the hidden moments that wrapped him up in a world where nothing else existed but physical sensations. 

"Okay." Winifred said. "Not the House of Rumlow. Bucky, what'd you think of the rest of them?"

He shrugged. "I don't."  
"Lady Danvers is a decade his senior." Rebecca said for him.  
"That's true." She agreed. "Two out. Lord Rogers is an heir to a seat in Parliament. The Judiciary Bureau. Works for them already."  
"And he was voted Society's Best Catch. He's real cute, too. Right, Bucky?"

Bucky didn't answer. He just went on pretending like they weren't talking about the person who they were going to be marrying him off to. The person who would be his headship. Who he'd be submitting his life to.

"But Lady Foster is supposed to be very intelligent. The House Foster is known for their virtue."

He couldn't listen anymore. Bucky didn't bother asking to be excused from the table. He just go up and left. Went to his bedroom and waited for the results. They came an hour later.

"Bucky?"

He was staring out the window. At the city skyline. Seeing nothing. 

"Mother, please..." Bucky felt the tears rising again. "I can't do this. I..."  
She rushed into the room and put her arms around him. "You can. You must. You will. It's your duty to your House now. I'm so sorry it's come to this, James, I really am. But this _needs_ to be done. Or _all_ of us suffer."  
He cried a little more into her shoulder. "I know. I... okay." There was nothing left. No arguments. Nothing to say. _Be strong._ "Okay, Mother." He sniffled and picked himself up. "Who is it?"  
She gave him a nod of approval. "House of Rogers."

Lord Rogers. Steve. Society's Best Catch. To be his husband. His headship. 

Bucky'd lost his arm.  
His father.  
And now his hopes and dreams. 

_______________________________________________

Okay, so that brings us to what's been going on in Bucky's life right before we start the story. 

So, when Alexander Pierce ((who _is_ the same dude in the movie, just in this universe, the man who outwitted Nick Fury)) comes into the picture, Bucky is in an extremely emotionally vulnerable place. The House Pierce and the House Rumlow are associates, so Alexander has been talking with Brock, getting information on Bucky. He _knows_ a lot of Bucky's insecurities and what he's afraid of because Brock's told him. He does most of what he does on purpose: Speaks calmly, but firmly, hovers over him, invades his personal space, has Brock there just to make Bucky feel both secure _and_ uncomfortable at the same time, keeps bringing up all the things that he _knows_ Bucky is insecure about, actually reaches out and _touches_ Bucky's left arm like it's not part of him, but a "thing" that he's allowed to touch. He's almost harassing him in a sense that he's relentless, a way that Bucky's not even sure what's happening, hence why Bucky repeats a lot of things that he says to him. 

Yes, when Alexander first mentions that he has a way for Bucky to get his life back, the thought is intriguing, how could it not be? But once he realizes it's potentially harmful to Steve he's reluctant to share anything with him. It's then, that Alexander once _again_ throws even more manipulation at him ((the fact that his father's oldest friend betrayed him in Georges' time of need)) that Bucky starts to say anything and when he does, it's mostly as a defense mechanism, a way to get Alexander to stop, to make these feelings go away. That's why it comes out like a question (("Steve... was sick?")) He was almost in a fog, which is what ((or can)) happens when someone is being manipulated and//or harassed. They don't always realize what's happening until after it's happened. Bucky didn't _mean_ to give the information to Alexander. He's in a fragile state of mind, everything that went on above just happened 16 weeks ago, the "relationship" with Brock ending just days before the actual wedding, and Alexander took advantage of that, tricked it out of him. When it hits Bucky, realizes what he's done, he immediately feels guilty about it, tries to take it back, and won't give him any more information. Because he _doesn't_ want to give him any.

But there you have it. I just don't want anyone thinking that Bucky is this horrible person trying to hurt Steve. I did try to show the manipulation in the writing itself and I hope it comes across that way. I was super nervous about that chapter because of it. I must have gone over it hundreds of times and it's so different from the first run around.


	2. Society's Hottest Newlyweds: A Sit Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the article containing Steve and Bucky's full interview which is first published in several reputable newspapers New York, then reprinted in papers coast-to-coast as well.

# 

#  _Lord James “Bucky” Barnes._

# 

_You know him best as Society’s Sweetheart. Earned the title two years ago and still lives up to all our expectations. Charming, witty, vivacious, Lord Barnes has graced us with his upbeat and spirited personality ever since he was a child._

# 

#  _Lord Steven Rogers._

_The pleasant, good natured gentleman who stays out of our spotlight as best he can, but always greets us with that open and happy smile. Polite and loveable, you know him as Society’s Best Catch. Three years running. Until now. Since he’s been caught._

_Ever wonder what it would be like if Society’s Sweetheart and Society’s Best Catch married? Well, now we know._

_A little under two months ago, Lord Barnes was married up to Lord Rogers. An arrangement made immediately following the death of Lord George Barnes. Amid scandalous rumors of an improper headship, we were recently given the opportunity to sit down and talk with Society’s newest, and most popular, newlyweds._

**Good afternoon, Lord Rogers, Lord Barnes.**

[Lord Rogers] (waves) Hi, how are you? Thank you for having us.

[Lord Barnes]: (smiles and waves) Always a pleasure.

**I guess for starters, we should say congratulations on your marriage?**

[Lord Barnes]: (laughs) Oh well thank you.

[Lord Rogers]: Yes, we appreciate it.

**Well how is married life treating you?**

[Lord Rogers]: Can we be a bit more vague? (laughs) A change, but I believe it’s going well. As well as can be expected, I think.

[Lord Barnes]: Yes, um, I think so, too. 

**How are you adapting to House Rogers, Lord Barnes?**

[Lord Barnes]: (pauses) Well, it’s been a change, not easy, but my husband has been a good… (glances at Lord Rogers) (smiles) lighthouse. 

[Lord Rogers] (laughs) He’s been doing well. Working hard.

**Like the House Rogers’ creed?**

[LR]: Exactly.

**Is Lord Barnes meeting all your expectations, Lord Rogers?**

[LR]: And then some.

[LB]: Really?

[LR]: (smiling at Lord Barnes) Do you doubt your headship?

[LB]: (smiling back) No, husband. Thank you.

**Can you be clearer, Lord Rogers?**

[LR]: I suppose. I mean, it takes time, really, to develop any sort of relationship, doesn’t it? My husband has been trying hard to meet all my expectations and right now that’s what matters most to me.

**So then, is Lord Barnes just as sweet behind closed doors?**

[LR]: He can be. Usually when he least expects it. 

[LB]: (blushes) I try. (laughs) Sometimes my husband makes it easy.

**Lord Rogers says you’re trying, Lord Barnes. So what have you learned of the House Rogers so far?**

[LB]: (laughs) I’ve learned how to cook and follow my husband’s schedule. And I’m learning proper House table etiquette. Steve’s going to teach me French, too.

[LR]: If you’re good. (winks)

[LB]: He’s terrible, isn’t he?

**Terrible, huh?**

[LB]: I’m joking. Did you forget how to joke?

[LR]: (laughs)

**No, no. Just had to make sure. But Society’s Sweetheart does have a lot to live up to. So far, you seem to have done it fairly well.**

[LB]: Oh well thank you. (laughs) I guess I’m just a natural. 

[LR]: Must be all the sugar.

[LB]: (laughs)

**But now you’re married to Society’s Best Catch. How true of a title is that for Lord Rogers?**

[LB]: Ah… (blushes) I’d say it’s pretty accurate. Not farfetched. 

[LR]: Aw, now he’s just trying to suck up to me.

[LB]: No! (laughs) I am not. I’m on my best behavior. Just like you told me to be.

[LR]: (pats Lord Barnes’ thigh) Such a good husband.

**So then you’re on your best behavior? Right now?**

[LB]: (runs fingers through hair) I assume that question’s for me? And yes, I’m always on my best behavior.

[LR]: Always. Not even one wise ass remark.

[LB]: Not from me. Never.

[LR]: (laughs)

**Have you had to use discipline?**

[LR]: So far? No. Bucky’s done nothing to warrant use of discipline. 

[LB]: (smiles) (shrugs)

**Will you?**

[LR]: Use Domestic Discipline? If the occasion calls for it. But that’s a matter for us. A private issue.

**Something I know is on everyone’s mind, have you discussed children?**

[LB]: (laughs) Why is everyone so interested in that?

[LR]: We’re a hot item, huh? Everyone wants to know how quickly we can get an heir.

[LB]: I do like cats though.

[LR]: (laughs) I know. How about we start with a kitten? 

[LB]: Are you offering?

[LR]: Not right now. (laughs)

[LB]: Darn.

[LR]: I think that answers the question best.

**You both seem to be keen on building a deep connection. If that’s the case, can you tell us something that you’ve learned about each other?**

[LR]: He likes chocolate. 

[LB]: (laughs) I do like chocolate. Um, he has two left feet.

[LR]: Hey! I warned you!

[LB]: (nods and laughs) You did, husband, you did. No but, really, my husband speaks three other languages. 

**Is that right? Three?**

 

[LB]: Yes. French, German, and Russian.

**It sounds like you’re building up something of a nice marriage...**

[LR]: Well thank you. We’re trying.

**...Be that as it may, isn’t it customary to host a dinner party within the first month of a new marriage?**

[LB]: I forgot about that.

[LR]: Wasn’t your job to remember. And yes, I realize that the traditional time period for our first dinner party has lapsed, and we offer our apologies for that. It is my intention to host such an event, but given how we married just a month after our engagement announcement instead of the customary year, I thought it best to take things a little slower. 

**Then have you bonded with your new mother and father in the meantime?**

[LB]: Oh…

[LR]: My parents are allowing us time to get to know one another. Become familiar and giving me a chance to develop the proper way to run my House. 

**You spoke of taking things slower. Consummation is…**

[LR]: We’re not discussing a private matter such as consummation. You might as well get onto the next question. 

**Apologies. Is it true then, that Lord Barnes is still working for the Military Bureau?**

[LB]: Yes, that’s true. Steve said I could stay there.

[LR]: I don’t intend to have him stop working. He enjoys his job. No reason to make him leave.

**But the House Rogers is known for it’s work in the Judiciary Bureau.**

[LR]: Yes, it is. But not all of the House works in the Judiciary Bureau. Bucky’s now one of them.

[LB]: I asked Steve on the first day of our marriage. Don’t worry (laughs) he didn’t just let it slide by.

**Oh, I doubt anyone is worried about that. But while we’re on the subject of the Military Bureau, can you tell us, Lord Barnes, what do you think the late Lord Barnes would feel about your union? You marrying up and all?**

[LB]: I wouldn’t have…

[LR]: Don’t answer that, Bucky.

[LB]: (whispers) Okay. (Said to Lord Rogers: Thank you, Steve.)

**Moving along then. What has been the greatest obstacle so far?**

[LR]: Probably…

[LB]: Me.

**You, Lord Barnes?**

[LB]: Yes, me. Entering this marriage I know I wasn’t the easiest to maintain, to take headship over. I didn’t mean to be such a struggle. But I was, am, mourning. Still not in the greatest of places, never expected to marry up, and Steve has been wonderful. Has inspired me to fall in line with his headship, rather than using brute force. And it’s helped a lot. I think. (pauses to look at Lord Rogers) Oh, I’m… sorry. I shouldn’t have…

[LR]: No, that’s fine. I told you, honesty and transparency, right?

[LB]: (smiles) Right. Still, thank you, Stevie.* 

[LR]: (stares at Lord Barnes)

[LB]: Husband?

[LR]: You’re welcome, Bucky. But I’m not sure I completely agree with you. Not in that… I just think that maybe we were both our greatest obstacle. Our own insecurities held us back. We’ve recognized this in ourselves and each other and we’re working through it. 

**Lord Barnes, you say that you’ve been “inspired” to live under Lord Rogers’ headship, but have you felt you’ve been mistreated in anyway?**

[LB]: Mistreated? 

**Yes, mistreated. Has Lord Rogers given you any reason to feel he’s taking advantage of his right as headship?**

[LB]: Oh, well, I… (looks to Lord Rogers)

[LR]: It’s okay. You can answer.

[LB]: (nods at that) No, I haven’t. At all. As my headship, as well as my husband, Steve’s been kind and patient with me. I’ve felt… well taken care of.

**Taken care of? Lord Rogers, you do realize as headship, it’s your job to lead your House, right?**

[LR]: Of course I do. What’s your question?

**Well, it’s just that a lot of people are beginning to wonder whether or not you’re qualified to truly be your House’s headship. Given last week’s appearance and the accounts of several eyewitnesses stating Lord Barnes was off galavanting all night…**

[LB]: No, that wasn’t Steve’s fault. He said I…

[LR]: Bucky, they’re talking to me right now.

[LB]: Oh um… I… (moment of silence) I’m sorry.

[LR]: Last week, I took my husband out. My husband’s friends were there. As far as I know, it’s perfectly acceptable for a headship’s spouse to be with their friends when given permission. 

**You don’t think it odd then? Your husband spending more time away from you than at your side where he should be?**

[LR]: He spent time where I wanted him to be. I told him to be with his friends. Again, he had permission. I told him to go. Really, he was doing what he was told. 

**Then why was it Lord Barnes to answer most of the presses questions that night?**

[LR] (to Lord Barnes): You can tell them.

[LB]: Well (clears throat), I’m… I’ve more experience with talking to the press. I’m more comfortable with it. So… I offered. My husband said yes.

**Can you tell us a bit about what went on that night?**

[LR]: By that, you mean the supposed brawl I started?

[LB]: (rolls eyes)

**Yes. If you wouldn’t mind?**

[LR]: It’s really very simple. I saw a young lady that needed assistance. I went over and offered it. Tried to walk away. The person in question didn’t take kindly to it. They tried to hit me. Bucky stepped in when my back was turned. There was a scuffle. Really that’s all there is to tell.

**So Lord Barnes took initiative first? We understand this person involved with the conflict is of higher Status?**

[LR]: (long pause) Yes.

[LB]: Steve was going to get hit, I… (pauses, adds looks to Lord Rogers)

[LR]: It’s okay. Go on.

[LB]: I stepped in before that could happen.

[LR]: He did. Bucky tried to stop it from escalating any further.

**Instead of you? Even though you’re his headship?**

[LR]: (shakes head) He tried when this person attempted to hit me from behind. Then I was hit, regardless of both of us trying to diffuse the situation. I think the matter at hand here, that everyone seems to forget, is that I was taking my husband away from there. We were leaving. Bucky was coming with me, willingly, like a good husband listening to his headship, then I was hit. Just like many eyewitnesses say.

**What went through your mind when your husband was struck?**

[LB]: Is that question for me?

**Yes. If you wouldn’t mind.**

[LB]: No, that’s fine. What went through my head? Honestly, I’m not sure. I just saw Steve get hit and I reacted. 

**Then you admit to striking someone higher in status than yourself?**

[LB]: I… yes. That’s what happened. But I did it to defend my husband and myself. 

**You would act the same way then in a similar situation?**

[LB]: Defend someone I care about? Most certainly. Wouldn’t you?

**Then you care about your husband?**

[LB]: I…  
[LR]: You don’t have to answer that.

**After your, possible, rough start to public appearances, how soon do you think we can see you out and about again?**

[LR]: I think that depends. The New Years’ Gala is a definite.

[LB]: Good memories.

[LR]: (pauses to put arm around Lord Barnes’ shoulders) Between now and then, though, there’s Christmastide coming up and I would like to get our dinner party underway. So, really, I guess only time will tell. 

**Another question on the matter of headship. How do you feel about the rumors circulating?**

[LB]: (to Lord Rogers) May I answer this?

[LR]: Be my guest.

[LB]: I guess it’d be natural for my husband to want to defend his place as headship, but I think might be better coming from me. Because the only two people in this marriage are us. Steve’s taken an active approach to learn about me and teaching me about him. Now, maybe that’s not the way it’s done in most Houses, I know it wasn’t in my, my former House, but it seems to be working for us. Steve was voted Society’s Best Catch for several reasons, and one of those reasons is because he’s not a bully. Layman's terms, I know, but it’s the simplest answer I can give. My husband wants to lead, not rule. And for that I’m grateful. 

**You don’t think that sort of thing could be detrimental to Societal tradition?**

[LR]: How we live our private lives? No, I don’t. I like my husband the way he is. I don’t want him to have to change to please other people. I’m his headship, Society isn’t. Isn’t he supposed to be most pleasing to me?

**That’s an interesting way to look at it.**

[LB]: Well, you wonder about change to tradition and Society. Isn’t everything always changing? I’ve already told you that I was… a bit of a handful the first week or so of our marriage. I take the blame for that.

[LR]: Bucky.

[LB]: Yes?

[LR]: We’ve talked about this. You’re not to take the blame for that, right?

[LB]: Oh. Sorry, Steve. I, um, I just…

[LR]: You’re okay. Keep going.

[LB]: Um, it’s just… a few weeks ago, there’s no way I would have wanted to do this interview. I would have, if my headship arranged it, of course. But the point is, Steve’s approach to being my headship makes me want to do things for him, to help him and please him. I don’t feel forced. And I think that matters a lot to both of us.

[LR]: It does.

**Well, there you have it. Thank you so much for your time, Lord Rogers, to you and your husband. It’s greatly appreciated that you could find a way to fit us into your schedule.**

[LR]: Oh not a problem. I’m very glad for the opportunity, as usual. My husband and I are grateful to have been asked. 

[LB]: Am I allowed to say goodbye? (laughs) 

_So there you have it. A quick look into the lives of Society’s Sweetheart and Best Catch, married hastily and taking time to grow together. It has been said that Lord Rogers, given the House of Rogers’ more liberal views, would be unfit as headship. Just that brief amount of time spent with them tells us a different story._

_Dressed in a mix of modern and proper attire, a good call by our photographer, Lord Rogers and Lord Barnes just may be opening new doors to the future of Society. A strong hold on values to self and House over Societal norms? Fitting. And it seems to work for them. During no time, did anyone suspect that Lord Barnes was undermining his headship. In fact, whenever need be, Lord Rogers swiftly stepped in and steered the interview in the direction he was most comfortable._

_It seems quite clear that the House of Rogers is capable of a bright future. We here at the Daily Bugle, The Sun, The Tribune, The Journal, The Union, and The Herald wish Lord Rogers and Lord Barnes all the best of luck._

***Editor’s note: It was at this point of our interview with the newly weds of the House of Rogers, after gradually shifting closer to his headship, that Lord Barnes affectionately placed his head on Lord Rogers’ shoulder for a moment. A rare look into the closeness that can be found within the couples of High Society.**

_We were also lucky enough to get something of a candid photograph of the newlyweds, more proof that Lord Rogers and Lord Barnes have a chance at something both new and traditional together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first and last images are credited to the amazing [fujoshizzle](http://fujoshizzle.tumblr.com/) awesome edits and thank you so much for letting me use them!!
> 
> Fun Fact: The names of the papers listed as having run the article ((other than the Bugle which, for anyone who might not know, is simple a reference to Marvel's Spiderman)), were all popular newspapers in New York in the early 1900s and are no longer up and running.


	3. Invitations to Society's Hottest Newlyweds' Dinner Party

For those higher in status

For those even or lower in status

RSVP card to Accept

RSVP card to Decline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you can make it!! ;)


	4. Fan Headcanons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a collection of reader headcanons that I've received on my tumblr

**From Anonymous**

_Here's another OBDaMH headcanon for you: Steve told Bucky he doesn't want him to address Steve as "sir" or another honorific, but Bucky occasionally likes to tease him by calling him "my lord husband." He's found Steve responds well every time, especially in...certain situations._

The first time is an accident. Bucky’s head is swimming with champagne. His belly’s full of cakes and chocolates and puddings. A dinner party at Lady Potts and Lord Stark’s is everything that’s ever been said and more. Glitz and glamour. Hours of it and wonderful company. Even Talia, Clint, and Maria have been invited. 

So when there’s a whisper in his ear – soft breath tickling his soft skin – he’s not entirely prepared. 

“Perhaps you should put that one down,” Steve suggests. Fingers running down Bucky’s neck. “Or would you rather me carry you over the threshold again?”

The glass in Bucky’s hand laughs as golden bubbles swim up to the top over and over. Bucky puts it down and smiles. 

A smirk pulls up on his lips. Crooked and teasing. One that makes Steve smile back before Bucky gets a word out. There’s a joke sitting on Bucky’s tongue. A smart ass comment just aching to be said. Only two things come out at once.A real answer and his joke rolled together. 

“Oh yes, sir, my Lord husband.”

The words just all spill out of his mouth, surprising both Bucky and Steve. Bucky’s about to spit out a giggle when he notices Steve’s cheeks get all red. His husband blinks a few times before clearing his throat and looks away. Bucky stores that reaction in his mind for later.   
Later is actually at home that same night. This time it’s most definitely on purpose. When they’re in their bedroom and Steve is behind the room partition. Half undressed already and Bucky almost forgets to say it since the sight of Steve with nothing over the upper half of his body makes Bucky’s mind all fuzzy. 

“Do you need to go for a run in the morning?” Bucky asks. Slips arms around Steve’s waist and feathers kisses between his shoulder blades. “Or am I allowed to keep you up…” He makes his voice low; rich with implications when he adds, “ _My Lord husband_?”

Bucky can practically feel the chill that runs down Steve’s spine. Most definitely feels the tremble when that chill spreads to the rest of his body. 

“Mmm,” Bucky coos. Hands wandering across his husband’s bare chest. “So you do like that, my Lord husband?”

Steve sucks in a rough breath and turns around. Eyes dark. Smoldering. And making Bucky’s knees weak. 

Steve takes Bucky’s face in his hand and Bucky’s being smothered in kisses and strong hands quickly work his clothes off and he’s up against the wall. Steve’s not making it on his run in the morning, that’s a definite. 

In the morning, Bucky wakes to smooth fingers running along his throat. A bit of sun trickles into the room. Waking it with warmth and light. Steve is smiling down at him. 

“Good morning, my Sweetheart,” he murmurs. Adds a kiss to the tip of Bucky’s nose. “Did you sleep well?”

Bucky stretches his arms above his head. 

“I did.” He smiles. Licks his lips and asks, “Did you, my Lord husband?”

Steve’s entire face fills with a blush and he drops back down into laughing pillows. Snuggles up against Bucky’s side and tries to pretend nothing’s happened. Bucky’ll show his husband a bit of leniency this time.

Next time… well, there will be a next time. 

**From Anonymous**

_Of broken dreams headcanon! I have one of steve and bucky going for a midnight walk and having a very deep meaningful conversation! Filled with lotsa fluff_

It’s a restless kind of night. The type that has Steve tossing and turning and unable to find the appropriate amount of comfort that will allow sleep to fully take him. He’s drifted in and out a bit, but still hasn’t reached any out like a light states. 

This time when he comes to, Steve huffs and rolls onto his stomach. Face smothered in his pillow. Without looking, he reaches out to touch his husband. Sometimes feeling Bucky close calms him. Quiets the static in his brain. The pitter patter of worry that runs around in the middle of the night. Hiding in shadows and coming out at the most inconvenient of times. 

But all Steve grabs are sheets. Soft to the touch. Nice and all, but not what Steve’s looking for. He picks his head up to confirm that Bucky’s side of the bed is empty. It is. His husband is not in the room at all. 

Steve sits up. Mind too loud to get any sleep at all now, he gets out of bed and slips his shoes on before heading downstairs to find his sneaky husband. Probably stealing a moment for himself to have a cigarette. Steve pauses in the foyer for his coat. It might be spring, but it’s the time of year with fickle weather. Cold in the early morning hours only to get too warm in the afternoon for the attire picked to brave the cold morning. 

Just as suspected, Bucky’s on the front steps. Also wrapped in his coat. Cigarette held lightly between two fingers, Bucky’s looking up at the sky. Steve opens the door quietly and steps out to join him.

“Hello, Bucky,” he greets. Holds in a laugh when his husband gives a little jump. “Can’t sleep?”

“I…” Bucky’s whole face turns red as if he still believes Steve doesn’t know that he comes out here every night. “I didn’t think I’d wake you. I’m sorry, husband.”

“No, no,” Steve chuckles. “I was awake.” He looks up the way Bucky had. The sky is full of stars. Thousands of bright, twinkling eyes looking down from the heavens. “Hm…”

Bucky’s just taken the last pull of the cigarette he’s now trying to keep out of sight and snuffs it out.

“Steve?” he asks. “What is it?”

Ever since the funeral, Steve’s found himself riddled with nerves when he has nothing to do. Nights are the worst. Nights like this one. But tonight feels different. The cool air feels alive. Nothing’s stale.

“How would you feel about joining me for a walk, my Sweetheart?”

Disbelief flashes across Bucky’s face. He looks up and down the block as though expecting something to happen.

“A walk, husband? Now? It’s past midnight.”

“You don’t have to come,” Steve assures him. Starts down the steps to head for the sidewalk. “You can go…”

But Bucky is suddenly wrapping an arm with his. Smile playful and carefree as he comes along. The lampposts are still lit. Throwing off soft cones of light every few feet along the way. 

“I love you, you know,” Bucky whispers. Eyes flicking up to meet Steve’s. “You can talk to me, husband. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

Steve sucks in a deep breath. He’s made promises to the people he loves. One of them includes not hiding away in an attempt to keep his own pain from resting on the shoulders of others. But Bucky isn’t fooled. Hasn’t been in months. 

Tonight’s a good night for a walk. 

“Okay,” Steve murmurs. “I’m ready.”

**From Anonymous**

_I have oBDaMH headacanon, I particularly love bucky and Sarah's relationship and I imagine them spending time together maybe out shopping, or in the garden drinking tea or walking around the house of rogers gardens (if they have that??)!i love how you wrote their relationship it's lovely_

Bucky follows Frances out to the gardens, keeping the parcel he has with him safe in his hands. It’s always nice to be able to enjoy the spring sun after a long, grey winter. The days are warmer, even if they’re growing shorter for his new mother. Who sits among sprouting white and purple crocuses, blooming cherry blossoms and lilies. The last one being her favorite. According to Steve. 

“You have a visitor, m’Lady,” Frances announces when she steps outside. Moving away to show her Lady who’s come. 

It doesn’t look like they’ve interrupted anything other than the process of stirring thoughts. Sarah’s face lights up like the flowers around her. Happy, it would seem, that Bucky’s come to see her.

“Bucky!” she exclaims. As best she can. Weaker now than ever. “What a lovely surprise.”

Smiling, Bucky first thanks Frances for showing him in and then crosses the garden to kiss Sarah’s cheek.

This is not the first time Bucky’s showed up unexpectedly. He likes it here. To visit Sarah at the House of Rogers. Now that she’s home all day, Bucky likes to think that maybe coming for a visit keeps her spirits up. Even though, like her son, Sarah isn’t one to share her pain, Bucky can see it. In the creases around her eyes and the tight pull to her lips. Sarah is in pain. More and more everyday. 

“It’s always lovely to be in such good company,” Bucky says. “Hello, Sarah.”

“You’re always too much, dear.” Sarah pats the iron bench she’s on. “Sit with me. If you’d be so kind.”

Of course, Bucky is more than willing to oblige. Though he’s quickly shedding his suit jacket, there’s a blanket around Sarah’s shoulders. Thin, weakened shoulders. Bucky fixes the blanket so that it’s not drooping off her body. 

“What brings you here today?” Sarah asks. 

“I’ve had some time to spare between patients,” Bucky explains. What he doesn’t tell her is that he cut back today so he’d have some free time in the afternoon. “I hoped you wouldn’t mind keeping me company during my spare time. It does get awfully boring on the base.” That part’s true enough. “And I brought you a little something.”  
The small box now sits in Bucky’s lap. He opens it and takes out a chocolate truffle.

“Oh, you’re going to be in so much trouble,” Sarah teases. She’s not supposed to be having such treats. Luckily, his husband doesn’t ask about any of the money that legally all belongs to him. Steve’s allowed Bucky to spend freely so sneaking Sarah a few sweet things doesn’t seem like a huge crime. “We’ll keep this between us then, hm?”

Bucky laughs and hands over the chocolate.

“Well thank you, Lady Rogers,” he jokes. “I believe you’ve saved me a lot of heartache.”

She chuckles softly and pops the treat into her mouth. There’re so many things Bucky wants to say and can’t figure out how to say it. He loves this woman. With all his heart. And she’s not going to last. He wishes he’d known her for years and years. Had the chance to make more memories. Christmastide mornings and birthday afternoons and trips to summer getaways.

A piece of heaven is going to be taken away from the world and Bucky’s not ready for that. Then again, who’s ever ready?

As if knowing what cruel thoughts have decided to make home in Bucky’s mind, Sarah smiles softly at him. She runs her thumb under his lip to wipe a bit of chocolate away.

“I love you, too,” she whispers. “Thank you, Bucky. For being so good to me. To my son.”

Long, thin fingers wrap around Bucky’s hand and Sarah rests her head on his shoulder.

“You’re welcome,” he chokes out. And what he really means is Thank you for everything. Everything. 

They fall into a comfortable silence and just sit there in the garden. Sneaking treats and soaking in the springtime sun. Sweets and warmth and blooming life already them. 

Together. 

For just a little while longer. 

**From Anonymous**

_I have a really odd (I think so anyway) of broken dreams headcanon so I thought steve and bucky would totally play hide and seek in their house just for fun but it would've probably started when they were just about to go to the bedroom after making out but bucky suddenly becomes playful and tells steve to catch him and runs away and hides. Idk I absolutely love it and considering theyre so cute I can totally see it????_

He’ll never tire of the taste of these lips. Soft and moist and always the hint of something sweet. Steve’s hands wander through Bucky’s hair as his own hips keep his husband pinned to the wall. He couldn’t help it. When Bucky walked into the library after returning from work Steve was just overcome. 

Everything has been so much, so fast, so… overwhelming lately. Illness and death and the trial. Wave after wave that’s crashed down upon Steve. Rough and violent waves that’s sent him spirally through dark and murky waters. And Bucky’s been his buoy. Throughout it all. 

Steve still can’t understand why. Why Bucky loves him so much that he’s willing to be so supportive. This marriage was never fair for Bucky. Things may be changing in the world now, but it never gave Bucky a chance to choose for himself. He was forced here. And yet chooses to stay. Steve will always consider himself the luckiest man in the world. 

His husband whimpers beneath Steve’s heavy kisses. Hands of flesh and metal never leaving Steve’s hips. 

“I love you,” Steve breathes. Mouth right by Bucky’s ear. “Love you so much. Forever.”

“Mm.” Bucky nips at Steve’s jawline. “I think I can live with that. Forever, Stevie. I love you.”

“Come on,” Steve says. Orders in a sense. Words coming from both his role as husband and headship. Bucky’s free to say no and of course Steve’ll listen. But Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. Usually doesn’t. “The bedroom. I want you.”

“Oh yes, _sir_ , husband.”

Bucky slips out from between the wall and Steve to do has he’s told. They don’t quite run, but their pace is much quicker than a walk. 

The door to their bedroom is right in front of Bucky. Closed, which is unusual. Must have been the chimney sweep. Bucky’s hand is on the knob – metal and copper clinking upon contact – when he suddenly pulls away from the door. 

At first Steve worries something’s wrong. These have been some trying times. Steve knows Bucky has been touched by them as well. 

“Are you okay, my Sweetheart?”

But his husband turns to look at him. And Steve knows that look. The smirk on his lips and spark in his eyes. They scream mischief. And playful. Bucky’s fingers start toying with the buttons of his shirt. Opening them. Slowly. One by one until it’s at a pile on the floor. 

“You want me, husband?” His words are accompanied by his tongue circling around his lips. 

Steve’s throat is tight. Mouth completely dry. His husband is the most beautiful creation in the whole house. Steve can’t take credit for this work of art. His fingers act on their own and move to skim over the body in front of him.

Only Bucky dodges the touch and scoots away. Snickering and walking backwards as he moves further and further away from Steve. Steve whines and steps forward. 

“Yes,” he answers. “Please, Bucky?”

Bucky lights up with a mischievous grin and dashes for the stairs. 

“Then come and find me, Steve!” he shouts as he darts down to the first floor. 

“Oh you little…” Steve chuckles.

He takes in a deep breath and heads after his sneaky husband. Oh he’ll find him. Steve smiles at the thought. He’ll find him and kiss him and touch him all over and then… then it’ll be Steve’s turn to hide. 

**From Viper-Seven**

_For oBDaMH: Since Bucky now knows about his little secret, Steve has started leaving the door of the studio open whenever he’s working there and they’re home alone. A way of telling Bucky he’s allowed to come and go as he pleases. Bucky takes him on that offer too, comes downstairs sometimes to watch him create art. Sometimes Steve notices, but others he’s so immersed he doesn’t even see Bucky there, and those are the times Bucky loves most, cause he actually gets to see his husband’s soul. Sometimes Bucky brings him snacks too, or tea, though most times by the time Steve ends up drinking it it's already cold. He does not mind though he just loves that his husband cares about him. Other days Bucky plays the piano for him, the sound traveling all the way to the studio from the drawing room, happy and loving tunes that never fail to strike inspiration_

Bucky can’t find his husband. Well, that’s not really true. He knows Steve’s downstairs in his studio. Pulling the world as he sees it into colors and lines and shapes and making everything more beautiful. 

Steve’s started leaving the door open. Inviting Bucky into his private space. It’s an honor really. One that fills Bucky with such warmth and joy he sometimes thinks he might explode with it all. There’s a small part of him that worries he’ll find the door shut on him again. Of Steve deciding that Bucky’s not really worthy of joining him. That his presence will eclipse the sun. 

But today is not that day and, once again, Bucky finds the door open for him. There’s music playing. Sometimes Steve has it turned up so loud Bucky can’t figure out how his husband can even think let alone create. Today it’s soft. Sweet music drifting out into the hall and growing a bit in volume when Bucky eases the door open enough to come in. 

The tray Bucky’s carrying rattles a little as he brings it in. Topped with two cups of freshly made tea and sugar cookies, he gently places it on the work bench and then takes a glimpse at Steve. Straight away, Bucky’s mesmerized by the sight.

His husband hasn’t even noticed him. Bucky’s willing to bet he could turn the music off and Steve wouldn’t even notice. Steve is completely immersed in his work. Eyes wide and open. Lips moist as his tongue traces along them. Body moving fast and without any second guesses. This is Steve in his entirety. The world kneeling before him in awe as he bends it to his will. Sometimes Bucky wonders if he’s looking right into Steve’s soul. 

Taking a seat on the bench itself, Bucky slowly sips his tea and picks at the cookies and watches Steve. Finding himself drawn to him just like the rest of the room.

~~

The world crashed down around Steve. Coming back to him in a like a bolt of lightning. Something isn’t right. In front of him is the piece he’s been working on for the past few evenings. The night sky. Blanketed in thousands of stars and a soft splash of color. All hovered over a small piece of the world. Something he’d seen in a dream. 

But something’s missing. And Steve’s not sure what.   
He sighs and puts his brush down. Rubbing his eyes, Steve suddenly realizes the music’s stopped playing. Maybe if he puts another record on it’ll come to him. The finishing touch he’s looking for. 

With another sigh, Steve goes over to his phonograph on the workbench and catches a glimpse of the tray there. On it is a glass of tea and some cookies. There’s lots of crumbs around it, too. Steve looks around. No other signs of his husband, but Bucky must have been here. From the ice cold temperature of the tea, a while ago. Steve smiles and drinks the cold tea anyway. It might be cold, but he still feels it warming him. 

He’d still change the record for some new music, if a quiet melody didn’t whisper in his ear first. The piano. Keys pressed with sweet, tender care and carefully bringing their sounds down to Steve. 

The notes circle around him. Landing gently upon the edge of his soul and becoming a part of it. And just like that, with the kind music from his lovely husband leading the way, Steve knows what to do. 

Back at his work, Steve mixes the paints to match the colors in his head and quickly adds a person. In the distance. Walking with the stars and glowing with their light.   
Just like Bucky makes him feel. Someone who’s found his place among the stars. 

**From Anonymous**

_If you're not tired of them yet, here's another OBD headcanon: Steve ends up injuring himself doing some manual labor he couldn't bring himself to ask the staff or hire someone to do--nothing serious, but enough to put him in bed for a few days. He feels like a terrible burden, and Bucky pulls out Frankenstein to calm him down._

“Truvie, please,” Steve sighs. “I’ll come down to eat.”

He hates this. Hates watching Truvie bring all his meals upstairs to him. Having to use the dumbwaiter to get everything up there. 

“You’ll do no such thing,”

Steve’s belly clenches. He shrinks into his shoulders as he turns his head to face the source of the voice. His husband leans against the door frame. Arms pinned to his chest. 

“Bucky, I…”

“You, husband, will stay in bed like the doctor said,” Bucky orders. “And not move until your back is healed.”

“Aw, but, Bucky, I…”

“Nope.” Bucky shakes his head and comes into the room. Takes a seat in the armchair next to the bed. “You’re the one who tried to move the piano by yourself.”

“But you _said_ –”

“That it _might_ look better by the window,” Bucky interrupts. “That hardly means you should have tried to move it on your own.”

“I wanted to surprise you!”

“And boy did you,” he laughs. “Imagine my surprise to come home finding you laying on your stomach in bed with packs of ice on your back.”

Steve grumbles a bit incoherently and glances up when he hears Truvie chuckling.

“Do you find my husband reprimanding his headship to be so humorous, Truvie?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, m’Lord,” she replies. Continues to prepare the roasted chicken and peppers on the plate. “And he’s right.”

Steve folds his arms, but doesn’t bother trying to argue anymore. There’d be no point. He knows they’re right, but this is still a horrible feeling. After the whole mess a few months ago, this is pretty much unbearable. At least this time he’s a lot more coherent. He understands what’s happening to him. Not like when the fever warped his mind and made it so hard for him to process everything. Made him see things that weren’t there. Think things that weren’t true.

Feels as though no matter what he does, he’s always being a burden on someone. First his parents, then his friends, now his Housemaid and husband. 

Everything is so frustrating. Bucky can’t possibly stand the sight of him right now. Having to rely on everyone. Even needing help to use the restroom. 

“I love you, husband.” Bucky’s sweet voice pulls Steve from all those mean and taunting thoughts. He’s looking at him like Steve is his favorite person in the world. “So stop whatever you’re thinking, I don’t like it.”

Steve’s cheeks get warm. Bucky knows him so well. Well enough that he’s caught Steve red-handed in his self-deprecating thoughts. 

“Bucky, I…”

“You’re not a burden, Steve,” Bucky insists. He runs his hands over the book in his lap. Steve hadn’t even noticed it. “Never. Now eat your dinner. And I’ll read to you.”

Bucky keeps the book on his lap. Even when he opens it. Steve has no idea what book it is until Bucky says the first line. The words Steve knows forwards and backwards and still never tires of them.

“You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings.”

_Frankenstein_. Bucky’s reading _Frankenstein_ to him. Just like his mom used to. It’s different. Not hearing his lovely mother’s voice reading those words. The love forged to each one of them, however, is just as strong. Just as meaningful. 

Tears fill Steve’s eyes. Without looking up or even pausing in his reading, Bucky places a hand on Steve’s knee. 

Something warm and calm breathes through him. Steve sits back and eats like Bucky wants him to. Getting lost and finding comfort in his husband’s loving voice. 

**Written By Viper-Seven**

Steve’s feeling a bit tipsy by the time they get home. Not entirely the beer’s fault.  
Half of it is his husband’s doing. His husband. Bucky. Who know loves being so, loves him, and danced with him three times tonight, no matter how often Steve kept attacking his feet.

Steve wants to feel sorry for it, does feel sorry for hurting him, but it’s hard to actually feel remorse when it meant having Bucky in his arms, being able to just lean in for a kiss or bury his nose in his husband’s hair, breathe in his scent…

Steve is completely love drunk, and he still can’t get enough.

Precisely why he reaches out for his husband now. Barely home and he’s already pushing him back against a wall, lips on his neck, and Bucky gasps beautifully and is instantly responsive, knees buckling unavoidably, letting Steve hold him in place while he focuses only on kissing him back.  
Bucky didn’t drink nearly as much as him, but when Steve pulls back his eyes are half-lidded, and he seems to be feeling just as dizzy. He kisses his temple and smiles.

“That was for dancing with me tonight. Again. Even when I keep hurting you” He tells him. Bucky chuckles, and there’s playfulness in his gaze. 

“Was it a thank you, or an apology?” he snickers, and winces as he moves his foot in a circle to accentuate the effect.

Steve groans, steps back so he has room to hide his face in his hands. “I’m not getting any better, am I? I’m sorry, I don’t know why you put up with me…”

Bucky laughs again. Steve is fucking addicted to the sound.

“Come on, husband. I don’t put up with you. I love you. And I like dancing with you. You just need more practice”, he says, finds his balance and goes to turn on the radio.

Steve quirks an eyebrow at him when he turns, but when Bucky offers his hand, he takes it, lets himself be dragged to the improvised dancefloor in the middle of their drawing room.

The song is a slow one, easy to dance to, even for him. Even when he can’t stop staring at Bucky’s eyes, lips, down his open shirt, sweat still dotting his skin…  
Maybe that’s the trick to dancing, to just sway from side to side without worrying about tripping or stepping on his husband. To let his body feel the music and stop thinking about his two left feet.

He’s only starting to believe that maybe he can do this when the song ends. Then the next one starts, and it’s still slow, but with heavy basses, powerful… sensual.  
Steve freezes on the spot, realizing the song calls for the body to move in a very specific way, and he most definitely can’t do that.

_Your husband probably can, though_ , his brain supplies, and he actually has to hold back the groan that comes with the mental image.

He knows he’s doomed the moment he looks up and finds Bucky licking his lips and staring at him intently. His husband hasn’t even started moving yet, and Steve is already getting turned on and muttering “fuck…” under his breath.

Then Bucky does move, and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful than this. It’s elegant, but at the same time just so erotic, organic…

He moves his body like he knows fully well the way each muscle, tendon, and joint works, complete control over his spine and limbs. It would make Steve feel jealous, were he capable of feeling anything other than arousal right now. Bucky put some distance between them, when the song changed, but is now slowly nearing him again. Taking his sweet time too, building up anticipation, hips rocking in time with the music as each step brings him closer and closer to his husband.

Steve just can’t stop staring, and Bucky’s eyes won’t leave him either, desire shamelessly evident in his gaze, piercing and making Steve’s whole body feel on fire.

When his husband is finally by his side again he hooks his fingers through the belt loops of his pants, presses their hips together, and just goes on moving, soft pants now escaping his lips each time their erections rub together. It’s glorious and torturous and Steve practically can’t take it.

Then the sensation is suddenly too much. Bucky whimpers “Steve…”, and Steve can’t hold back anymore; crushes their lips together and kisses him passionately, almost aggressively. He’s a drowning man, and Bucky’s sweet, precious air; and their tongues dance a dance of their own, one Steve does know the moves of.

The song has ended by the time they pull back, and Bucky needs a few moments to catch his breath before he’s able to ask “Bedroom?”

Steve shakes his head. 

“Fuck no, too far. Piano, now.”

An hour later, with his husband fast asleep in his arms and the hard surface of the piano beneath him, Steve thinks that impromptu dancing lesson with Bucky might’ve been the best fucking idea in the world.

**From Anonymous**

_Since you asked I have a headcanon for broken dreams where if Steve and Bucky are at a place with Dancing Bucky always makes sure that he gets at least one dance with his husband and that is his favorite dance of the night because he likes being in Steve's arms and feels warm and protected and safe and he loves the way that Steve holds him so close when they dance. But also Steve doesn't realize that dancing with him is Bucky's favorite and he thinks that Bucky dancing with him is a chore._

Beer swishes down Steve’s throat. Cool and crisp on his tongue as it slips down to his belly. The night is hot and muggy. Summers on the Isle usually are and the season is in full force. Steve is sweating under his clothes, even with the first two buttons of his shirt undone. He doesn’t know how his husband does it. Dance all night without missing a beat.

Sweat drips down Bucky’s chest. His shirt is fully open as he continues to move along the dance floor of the rooftop terrace. He looks exquisite. Always does. All smiles and laughs. Hair damp and losing the style it started with at the beginning of the night. Steve loves watching him dance. His body moving this way and that. Long and angular. It makes all the muscles in Steve tight. 

The band has just switched songs. From fast to slower. A sweet melody carried over nighttime heat. On the dance floor, Bucky’s just stepped away from his partner and glances over at Steve. Eyes focused and determined, he crosses the roof to where Steve’s been seated most of the night. 

“Come on, husband,” he says when he reaches Steve. Metal hand open and waiting, already impatient. “Up.” Bucky snaps the fingers of his right hand. “Come dance with me.”

People at the table next to theirs scoff. Not holding back the distaste for the way Bucky’s spoken to his headship or the ever-dwindling hold on tradition in the rest of Society because of them. New practices rooted in foundation of their marriage. 

“Oh, is that how it’s to be?” Steve chuckles. “Are you the one handing out orders, sir?”

To that, Steve just gets an eye roll. Exaggerated and over the top. But then Bucky’s lip pushes out. Moonlight shimmers through the ice of his eyes. And Steve is near powerless to help the whimper that crawls up his throat.

Bucky laughs and takes Steve’s hand on his own. Pulls him from his seat so he can tow him towards the dance floor. As soon as they’re there, Bucky lights up with a smile and presses against him. Head nestled on Steve’s chest and arms around his neck. Steve arms wrap up Bucky’s waist. He takes one step. And lands on his husband’s foot.

“Sorry!” Steve exclaims when Bucky hisses. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Bucky snickers. “I’m used to it.”

And yet, Bucky continues to do this. Every time they’re out–more and more in the public eye. More proof that the Courts did the right thing by them. 

Bucky always saves one dance for Steve. No matter how often his feet get crushed. Steve can’t imagine why. He always tells him he doesn’t have to. The papers can say what they want about Bucky being up and about while his headship waits for him all night. The trend picking up.

“I love you,” Steve says. Kisses his husband’s temple in front of everyone. “So much.”

He can feel his husband smile against him.

~~

“I love you too, husband.” 

The arms around Bucky’s waist squeeze tighter. This is always his favorite dance. No matter how many times his feet shout at him. Scold him for allowing Steve to step on them. Bucky shushes them. 

This is where he loves to be. All wrapped up in his husband’s embrace. The beat of Steve’s heart playing gently against his ear. Bump bump, bump bump. Even surrounded by so many people. Eyes watching them to see what they do next. The figureheads of a movement they never meant to start. Bucky’s safe here. Happy. 

Where the rest of the world melts away to nothing and Bucky’s reborn in sunshine and warmth and stepped on toes. 

His favorite dance. 

Always.

**Author's Note:**

> And of course this wouldn't be complete without some gifs
> 
> We'll start with some of how Bucky would have been before all this happened:
> 
>  
> 
> And then we go into:
> 
> Right after his mother told him about the proposals 
> 
>  
> 
> Sitting at dinner listening to Winifred and Rebecca go over suitors
> 
>  
> 
> And accepting his fate and learning the they've picked Steve
> 
>  
> 
> Okay, so I hope I see you next week!!


End file.
